Whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on
by angelofpeaceandwar045
Summary: AU, It begins with us covered in blood and ends the same way. The lives of each Warden were changed after a string of events brought them together. For a time those reasons must be left alone but not forgotten. Each Human, Elf and Dwarf; lord, mage, warrior, hunter, assassin mercenary and thief have a part to play as war and fear spread like a plague. All War is Betrayal-Sun Tzu.
1. The Beginning of Our Grand Tale

Each and every one in the tavern was laughing, drinking and philandering as if there was no tomorrow. The local drunkards were already halfway towards ignorance while the wenches used their assets to their benefit; after all the various parts of the body serve more than one purpose. Then there were several bards on the upper level of the establishment that used the gifts they were born with. They were mediocre at best but the patrons didn't know that as they enjoyed the entertainment the amateurs provided for them. Then again, the people weren't there for a day of fun and enjoyment. No, the people in the tavern were trying to drown their fears, their nightmares, of what was to come. For most knew that there would probably not be a tomorrow for them. The darkspawn would be in Loithering within the next week, maybe they would be there on the morrow. They should be running instead of wasting time but, then again, maybe that would not help them much either. Therefore, either out of desperation or foolishness, the people stayed in the town that would soon become their grave but one of them was not like that. She was wondering her purpose since all of her beliefs had been rattled and put into question. That was due to a mere dream.

The Chantry Sister, the woman with the fiery red hair, sat in her usual place in the congested tavern. She was nursing a bottle of a poor excuse of imitation Orleasian wine but drank it anyway, due to it being the best offered at the bar. This Sister, Leliana, was no ordinary nun. In fact, her history was somewhat dreary and fairly ill-fated. It was one of the many reasons as to why she still carried steel, the pair of daggers kept hidden within her robes. Save for the trained eye, not a soul could tell blades were there. It was just like none of the people in the village who had come to know her in her years at the local Chantry, barely knew anything past her name. She even kept her favorite color and flowers a secret and instead had told the others lies of what they were. For instance she said that her favorite flower was a violet, when in fact it was Andraste's Grace. The she explained that her favorite color was purple, which in fact it was blue. Blue like the ocean, ever since she saw it for the first time as a little girl with Lady Cecile but with the times as troubling as they are now she could not afford the luxury of living in the past. Even more so now, ever since the vision she had been granted

After that dream, three fortnights ago, Leliana knew she was meant for something else. In her heart the Sister knew the Maker was telling her that her time in the Cloister was coming to an end. That it was time for her to venture out into the world once more, the same world that condemned her years ago. Even though she was afraid to return to that world, she feared the darkness more so. Her fall into the abyss was far more terrifying than the whips and tortures she felt long ago. Those scars would fade with time, as they already did, but darkness does not disappear so easily. Those torments and horrors linger on until the end, Leliana knew that rather well. Just like she knew her vision was the furor she needed but did not know yet what to do. Her purpose did not seem clear to her yet but it was going to. After all, it was walking through the door.

"You," she heard from a distance.

Leliana turned her head to a group of soldiers harassing another group of refugees. It was whispered throughout the inn that they were harassing expats and farmers and taking anything they had on them of value. The Sister was surprised that they had not forced themselves upon any of the women but knew that was going to change. Leliana had seen them eyeing her ever since she walked in, one of them even called out to her but she simply ignored him. The Sister found it easier to do that than hurt them, she knew she could but didn't want to do it in front of anyone. Her training taught her better than that. But training or no, that was going to change rather quickly. Leliana was tired of how the bastards had been treating not only her but the other people of Loithering as well. Sooner or later she would put an end to them but how soon would end up surprising her, in more ways than one.

Six companions entered the tavern, all of them intimidating with the weapons and armor to match. The first one was male dwarf with long blonde hair growing down his neck and a beard to match that stretched to the middle of his torso. He was wearing heavy dwarven armor and wielded many axes. There was the large double bladed battleaxe on his back and then there were the two smaller throwing axes on his sides and then a third axe in his hand. Unlike the other two, this was a war axe and he appeared to be using it as a walking stick as he grasped the upper part of the blade with a gloved hand. Both his weapons and armor appeared to be of a high quality as their craftsmanship stood out from the others he traveled with. Whoever this dwarf was, he seemed to be no stranger to warfare.

The second companion, who stood next to the dwarf, did not appear to be as threatening but was no novice either. He was about the average height of a man and had light blonde hair that was kept trimmed. He also kept the stubble on his chin neatly trimmed while the rest of his face appeared to be clean shaven. He bore a scale armor that appeared rather beaten and worn but it still appeared sturdy enough to protect him. The man also carried a shield on his back and a scabbard on his belt, hiding his blade from both Leliana and the world. However, it did not hide the pommel. At the tip of his grip, there was a griffon carving. The symbol of the Grey Wardens, the sight of it made the Sister wonder who they were.

Their third companion was a woman and an elf as well. She appeared to be of the Dalish, distinguished by the tattoos she had on her face. Leliana did not know what they symbolized but saw that one of them appeared to be of branches. There were two identical branches across both of her cheeks then followed by one across her forehead and another spreading down across her chin. The Sister found them to be very beautiful. The elfess had light brown hair that she kept into a ponytail along with the brightest emerald green eyes she had ever seen. The Dalish also had a small frame but it did not appear that strength was her best asset but instead it was speed. She kept two daggers at her hip, two more in the quiver across her back with her longbow and it appeared she had throwing knives in a pouch adjacent to the dagger on her left side. _She must be very fast, _the redhead mused.

Their fourth companion, who Leliana assumed to be their leader, was the tallest and largest one of their group but by no means was it bad that he was large. This man appeared to be all muscle. Although he was the tallest, he was barely taller than the blonde man in front of him but he held himself with more surety than his companion. He also seemed to have more of an authoritative presence about him or else he would not be able to command such individuals. He had long black hair that barely went past his ears and had several strands of it across his forehead. He had thick stubble that appeared ragged but was kept that way on purpose. The man also had light blue eyes but that did not keep Leliana's attention, it was his face. It was not because he was handsome, which she thought he was, embarrassingly enough. The reason was because he appeared to be hiding something. She could not tell what it was but knew there was something more to him than what he showed. _Those scars say something, _she pondered as she could see the faded wounds from a distance. There was a light scar going downwards across his chin and a second one beginning next to his right brow and ending just underneath his eye. They weren't menacing, since they had faded over time, but at one point they must have frightened his enemies. The man bore a fine, bare, leather breastplate along with the gloves and boots to match. Underneath the armor he appeared to be sporting chainmail. He also appeared to be wearing a tattered long-sleeved dark shirt over that along with a matching cloak and trousers. He wielded a broadsword on his belt and carried a quiver on his back. In it were two daggers and bow identical to the elfess'.

The fifth, their other woman, stood nearest to their leader. She appeared to be a mage by the staff she gripped but she also appeared to be a strumpet. Her outfit appeared to be made of nothing but rags since it left her breasts nearly exposed, for the world to see. Although, her skirt was long and it went down towards hear ankles. Her torn blouse, if it could be called that, appeared to be made of black cloth and her skirt of black leather, which was also what her boots appeared to be made of. From a distance, Leliana could not help but find this woman to be beautiful. She had dark raven hair kept in a bun but had a allowed several large strands to appear across her face. Then she had the strangest colored eyes the Sister had ever seen, they were amber, they stood out even more with the violet colored makeup she kept under her eyes. Leliana knew this woman was a master manipulator of men and by the way she appeared to be looking at her leader, it looked as if she found more potential prey.

The last member of the group, like the last, was a mage but did not appear to be the normal one. This man appeared to be very capable of fighting in a melee as well as casting powerful spells. Unlike the other mages Leliana had met, this one wore the same chainmail underneath shirt like their leader. He also kept on a cloak but unlike their leader his cloak's color was of dark green instead of black, just like both his shirt and trousers. The man kept a broadsword at his hip while gripping the most lethal staff the Sister had ever laid eyes on. It was a double pike head, two blades on each end of the shaft. The weapon was both deadly and resourceful as it could cut down enemies from either side. She then looked at his face and saw a man who put on a façade. He seemed to be happy but underneath his smile, that she knew was merely an act. His eyes spoke the truth and they spoke of things that were both violent and hateful. Similar to their leader, Leliana could see only that and nothing more. That was when she caught herself smiling at him, trying to get him to see her behind the crowd amassing in front of her. She did not know why but she…she decided to ignore such things. The man had blue eyes. She could not tell if they were dark or light from her distance but she could see that his hair was black, similar to their leaders but neater and less ragged.

After she finished inspecting the group, Leliana regained herself as she turned her focus on to the leader of the soldiers. The man was becoming dreadfully vexing.

"You're Grey Wardens," the man shouted. More and more, the Sister fought the urge to kill the man but in each moment decided against. She was in favor of seeing what would happen next.

"Damn," the blonde human grumbled, "Loghain's men."

"So here are the Grey Warden…the traitors," the sergeant spat. "Look at them men. They're weak and pathetic. Tell me how it felt to do something so cowardly."

_Continue on with that and I'll show you cowardly. _Leliana was really trying to keep calm but finding it harder and harder as the seconds passed.

"Take a good look at them," people still tried their best to ignore him. "I said look at the Wardens." This time the patrons forced themselves to look at the apparent, Grey Wardens. "These bastards and whores are traitors. They betrayed Callian, your king, to his death. Now watch us, true supporters of the crown and the Hero of River Dane gut them like the pigs they are."

"I assure you, we are not Wardens," their leader argued. His voiced sounded wise as he attempted to talk their way out of a confrontation. Leliana expected something a bit more threatening or arrogant. She was rather surprised at how he sounded. "We are just simple travelers, trying to find a bed or some place to sleep." He seemed passive but was far from it as his hand was slowly creeping towards the pommel of his blade. The man was merely buying time to reach it.

_He seems to be seasoned, _Leliana began to debate. She was wondering if she should help the soldiers or leave them to their fate.

"Of course you are," the soldier's sarcasm was terrible. "Traveler's always have weapons and armor, right men?"

"At least the smart ones do," a soldier with a maul joked. That fool was no better than the other men and possibly worse. Leliana heard a rather nasty rumor that he killed a young boy's dog earlier in the week because it woke him when it barked. Apparently, he also used the same maul to kill the boy's father when he tried to defend the poor animal. She know realized her mistake, she should have killed each of those soldiers then but if she did, none of what she was witnessing would have taken place.

It was in that moment, Leliana realized her purpose. _So this is what the Maker needs me to do. _She smirked at her revelation. She looked at the newcomers with new light. _I am to go with the __Grey Wardens. The Maker wants me to help them on their quest. I knew he had a plan. I knew the rose…I knew there was meaning to everything. _

"Eat shit, you bald surfacer" the dwarf interjected. The man rubbed his naked scalp in disgust, clearly offended. "I say we send these bleeding sods to their ancestors. What do you say, Tristan?"

"Shut it, Duran," their leader, Tristan, ordered. He then turned his focus not to the soldiers, much to Leliana's bewilderment, but to the bartender. "Do you own this place?" The bartender nodded. "Good," he smiled before continuing. "If I pay you for the damages and clear out the filth, do you mind if we kill these bastards?"

Suddenly the room went silent and all eyes were focused on the combatants and the newest patrons. Then they all turned towards the innkeeper. The middle aged man smiled and nodded at his newest customer, clearly more than willing to agree on such a bargain.

It was in that same moment Leliana decided to act. She felt that there was no need for such violence. Even though she knew those men deserved whatever was coming towards them. She left her table and began to walk towards them and hopefully prevent something foolish from happening.

"Gentlemen please there is no need for this violence," the Sister turned towards the sergeant. "I'm sure these people aren't the ones you're looking for. Please go back to your drinking and let's forget about this, yes?" Leliana put on her best of faces and hoped it was enough to convince the both parties.

"Miss, please stay out of this," Tristan spoke to her in a gentle tone. "I'd feel responsible if you get hurt."

"I'm not worried about myself, I'm afraid for their wellbeing. They have no idea what's…"

"Out of our way, bitch," the soldier grabbed Leliana by the collar and threw her into a table that gave way after the impact. "Next time I won't be so nice."

"Fucking bastard," Tristan's voiced changed. It became more hostile as he drew his blade. Then, within moments, the rest of his companions were battle ready.

"Men to…ahhhh," the lead soldier screamed as a broadsword pierced through his chest.

"Kill them all," the warden shouted as he pulled his bloody blade from the new corpse. "Save for one." The soldier fell to his knees and Tristan stepped over him, going to the one cowering in front of him. It was obvious these soldiers were not that experienced and now, thanks to their foolish commander, it was going to get them all killed.

Leliana couldn't allow this to happen, she looked up from where she was lying and wiped away the ale that covered her face. The first thing she saw was an arrow flying through the air and embedding itself into the neck of the soldier carrying the maul. He gurgled as blood spurted from his mouth and the wound in his neck, before falling to the ground dead.

_I have to stop this._ Leliana pushed herself off the ground and rushed towards the fighting. As she did so, she drew the daggers from her robes and rushed towards Tristan, hoping to stop him.

* * *

"Have at it," Alistair shouted as he used his shield to overpower one of Loghain's men. Even though he would never admit it, he was happy to be fighting these men. Not because they threatened them nor was it because they annoyed him. It also wasn't because they were probably harassing the refugees and villagers. It was because their general, Loghain, abandoned the army at Ostagar. He abandoned King Calian, his daughter's husband. He abandoned thousands of men and women, both mothers and fathers to die. It was because Loghain had left the Grey Wardens to die, the only family Alistair ever knew. The only people who ever gave a damn about him and the only person in his entire life that ever treated him with respect, Duncan, the Warden-Commander of Ferelden.

_I will avenge you Duncan, I swear it. _Alistair struck at his enemy again, this time sending him falling to the ground. His new shield had done wonders for him in the past month. He couldn't believe Tristan lent it to him but he wasn't complaining. How could he complain about such a fine item?

The man cowered on the floor and looked up with fear. "Please," he dropped his steel and looked up. "Don't kill me," tears were streaming from his eyes as he begged. "I don't want to die. Please,"

The former Templar said nothing as he lifted his shield for the final blow. He found it pathetic that the man would spend his final breathes on begging for mercy.

"No," the man lifted his arms up for defense, "Please!" His shield broke the man's arms with ease before connecting to his neck.

**CRACK**

The man was now lying lifeless, his neck broken. "That was for Duncan," Alistair grumbled as he turned around to find more people to kill. Instead he saw the chantry sister, now with a dagger in each hand, confronting Tristan with her blades at the ready in front of the last two soldiers, hoping to spare them. At first she was trying to talk to them and see if they could let them go. And now, she was standing in their way.

_This is why I'm glad Duncan recruited me. _The former Templar smirked as he slowly approached her. _I hated those damn zealots. Maker forgive me. _

"Stop this please," she begged. "There's no more need for killing."

"Yes," one of the soldiers behind her shouted. It was the same bald man that Duran had threatened earlier. "You don't need to kill us. Let us go and we'll run. I swear."

"Out of my way sister," Tristan asked with courtesy. Alistair was really surprised with this new recruit. All though he didn't know anything about him, other than his fighting styles, he respected the man greatly. He was glad Duncan managed to find such a promising recruit. "Please, this does not concern you."

"Yeah," Duran agreed. When one of the senior wardens recruited the dwarf it was by accident. Hugo, a Grey Warden from Antiva, was leading an expedition into the deep roads when they found him. The dwarf was, as Alistair heard, wearing only his small clothes, carrying a broken sword and covered in the blood of at least fifty darkspawn. The party was amazed he didn't die from the taint and allowed him to join their order. They conducted the Joining as soon as they reached the surface. After they got the dwarf to step out of the cave they had entered, apparently Duran was scared he would fall up and he began to rant about how there was so much space that it would swallow him up into the sky. Now, two months later, that was no longer the issue and the dwarf appeared fine with being on the surface. "They attacked us first." He spat on the wooden floor, "It's only fair we gut the lot of 'em."

"No," the sister defended. "It's not right. No one deserves to die like this, no one." A month ago, Alistair would have agreed with this woman completely but ever since Ostagar…everything changed. There are no more morals, there is no more honor. There is no more mercy. All that is left for them is duty and staying alive, Loghain had made that much clear.

"They do," the senior warden stepped in. "They left us to die at Ostagar." He huffed with anger as he eyed the woman. "Loghain, and them too," he pointed his blade at the cowards, "They left all of us to die. The Grey Wardens, the army and even the king were abandoned by these bastards. Now you're telling me that we don't have a right to avenge all those we lost. To avenge our brothers and sisters who were abandoned to the mercy of the darkspawn? Who are you to tell us that we have no right?" _Who are you except some bitch who knows nothing but what the reverend mother allows her to? _

"Easy, Alistair," Tristan barked. "Sister," he looked the woman in the eye, "Stay out of our way please."

"No," the woman positioned herself into a stance that Alistair wasn't familiar with. The Sister had one dagger facing outwards, towards Tristan, and the other was facing towards herself. "I will not allow you to-"

Without a moment's notice the other surviving soldier, a man barely past boyhood, grabbed the Sister and put on knife on her neck.

"Don't move," he whimpered. "Or I'll kill her." Tristan tested him by taking a stepped towards him. The knife got a little closer to the woman's neck as a result. "I mean it, Sister or not, she's my ticket to escaping this."

"Are you that much of a fool," Tristan asked, returning his sword back into its scabbard. "This means nothing to me." He turned his head to the rest of his companions. "What about the rest of you?"

"Just be done with it," Morrigan groaned. Thus far during their travels the witch did not make herself of much use, other than guiding them safely through the Korcari Wilds and bring them to this village. Although they had several skirmishes with darkspawn, she guided them far from the main horde and through relative safety. However, she did not appear to be of much more help. All she would do was teasing the others and drive them mad with insults. Then she focused mainly on Alistair, which annoyed him to no avail. Yet she proved herself a capable fighter and healer when the time called for it but she was an apostate and the former Templar had the feeling she could not be trusted but then again her spells had proven to be very useful and had gotten them out of trouble many of times. But no matter what Alistair did not trust and could not stand her for more than a minute. Every time they looked at each other he could not help but feel the feeling were mutual.

Morrigan appeared to be annoyed and was waiting for the situation to end. "Stop toying around and just kill them. 'Tis rather frustrating on how you are handling this situation."

Lyna, the Dalish Warden, rolled her eyes as she nodded along with Morrigan. It was one of the few times Alistair saw the women agree on anything, except for the mutual delight they took in insulting him. Even though they had not known eachother long, more often than not they seemed to be at each other's throats.

"End it," Lyna spat with venom. She turned her focus to Kainan before speaking again. "What are you waiting for shem? Kill the bastards so we can be done with it. Burn them from the inside or freeze them or do whatever it is you mages do."

The circle mage groaned as he turned to the leader. "Do you want me to handle this, Tristan?" The mage, Kainan, was, to a certain extent, a very interesting soul. The man had come from the Circle of Magi at Lake Calenhad and was rather old to have just passed his harrowing. He was past the age of thirty and appeared close to forty but he admitted that he did not show any potential with magic until a few years ago. He said that one day, he and the patrol he was with were ambushed by a group of bandits. The in the middle of the combat, fire spouted from his hands as he killed a majority of his enemy with a single attack. Then afterwards, he willingly went to the Circle. Alistair found his story to be ludicrous but did not say so as he feigned believing him. The warden figured he find out the truth sooner or later.

"No," Tristan replied. "Can't you see he's dying? Or am I the only one with eyes?"

That was when Alistair turned his head to see the young man drop down to the ground, dying in a pool of his own blood. The Sister was now holding a stainless dagger in one hand and a blood ridden one in the other.

"Maker's breath," the former Templar mumbled. "She's rather good with a blade." To say he was shocked by the outcome of the events was an understatement. He could not believe what he had witnessed with his own eyes. At first the Sister was asking them to spare the man, only to end up killing him herself.

"You," the Sister put the bloody dagger on sole surviving soldier's throat. "Are you going to attempt something as foolish as that or are you going to leave? Answer me and hopefully they'll spare you're lives because I am running out of patience." The woman was obviously Orleasian, due to her strong accent and how much it stood out when she threatened the terrified man.

"No," he cried. "I won't do anything except run for my life and go home." The ground around his feet had a puddle forming in the middle of it.

_The damn fool pissed his pants. _Alistair softly chuckled.

"Ha," Duran boasted. "The sodding bastard pissed his pants. Good job, sister." Apparently, the two wardens had a similar sense of humor.

"My name is Leliana," the woman replied. "If you can address me by my name, I would appreciate it." It seemed she was a bit irritated by what had transpired in the inn, then again who wouldn't be?

"I like this woman," the Aeducan shouted. "She has a pair of stones on her."

"Ugh," the Sister frowned. "So, Tristan," she eyed their leader. "What do you say, let him go?"

Alistair could see Tristan smiling. The feat was something the man rarely did and he had possibly done it two maybe three times in the six weeks since they met. Their crossed his arms on his chest before he spoke, "We'll let him go, enough people died today."

"Your life is yours again," Leliana removed her dagger from the man's neck.

"Thank you," the soldier sobbed, as tears dripped down his face. "Thank you for your mercy Sister and thank Ser for being a gentleman when me and my companions were not."

He was walking towards the door but then stopped as Tristan grabbed him by the arm. "There's one more thing," he whispered softly so the patrons couldn't hear him.

"What is it," the man feared the worse was about to come.

"Deliver a message to Loghain," he talked to him in a commanding voice.

"Yes, Ser," the soldier swallowed with fear. Everyone in the inn saw him shaking in his armor.

"Tell him we're coming for him. Tell him we're going to kill him. The Grey Wardens are coming and that cowards can run for only so long before the hunter claims its prize. Now go and live your life because it will not be given to you again."

The soldier then sprinted out the door and ran for dear life. They were never going to see him again, either the road would claim him or Loghain would chop off his head for his cowardice. Either way, the man was condemned to die horribly.

"This was an interesting day," Tristan rubbed his hand across his face. "First we kill bandits and then we have to deal with cowards. What's next, a pack of wolves," he asked his companions. "Or will we have to deal with darkspawn?"

"I hope for neither," Alistair voted. "I don't care for this killing bit. I just want to wake up one morning thinking this was all a dream and have a big plate of cheese right next to my bed. That reminds me, we're all out of cheese. We need to stock up on it." The warden did not care for things feeling so grim, which was why he had such a rich sense of humor. Well at least he thought he did.

"You have a sickness, shem," Lyna said. The elfess, along with maybe one or two of the others, thought his love of the food was upsetting "What do you see in cheese? It smells rotten most of the time."

"Well that's because the Dalish don't know how to make it right," Alistair defended. The elfess merely grunted at him. "Come on now, its cheese. You can't go wrong with cheese I mean really, its cheese. You can boil it, mash it and stick it in a stew."

"Those are potatoes you fool," Morrigan interjected. "We have two hounds amongst us and still Alistair proves that he is the dumbest one in the party."

"You've already said that," the Templar groaned. He sheathed his blade and walked towards the corpse of the man he killed. He began to feel around the body and felt something alongside his belt.

* * *

"Check for gold," Tristan commanded. So far the lead Grey warden had not expected something like this. He didn't figure Loghain would leave men behind to deal with stragglers but then again he did not expect him to abandon the army Ostagar. Some much had happened in the past few months that life had become hell for him once more. At some points in he couldn't help but feel he was in a nightmare but new to well that it was not the case. "It's what we need." _It's what everyone needs,_ he added in his thoughts. _How can such a pointless stone be worth so much. _

"There isn't much," Alistair spoke out. The lead warden turned to see his senior stand up holding a small coin purse. "Twenty maybe thirty silver in here." He threw the coin purse towards his companions.

Before Tristan could catch it, Kainan reached out and took before it was in his grasp. The mage clearly had plans for the money, "I'll give this money along with whatever on the corpses, to the first three volunteers, who clean up this mess." In measly seconds several bodies lined up next to the mage and accepted his money without question before lifting the bodies and carrying them outside.

Tristan liked the mage already. Kainan was exceptionally capable and rather crafty. It was hard for him to believe that he was a soldier but then again it was hard for him to believe that an actual Blight was ravaging Ferelden. So much had happened that it wasn't hard for him to believe anything anymore but parts of him did.

"Excuse me," a feminine voice called. His thoughts disappeared as all his focus was now aim towards the source of the voice.

Tristan turned his head to see the Sister, Leliana, approach him. She was still carrying her blades, which could mean two things. The first being, she had not yet put them away. The second was, she had wanted to kill him for attacking the fool she defended, at first. He believed the first was more likely but nonetheless, he would be ready in case she did attack him.

"What is it you want miss," Tristan asked her kindly. "We've already saved you," he saw her squint her eyes at him with annoyance. "Alright," he corrected, "You helped yourself out of an unpleasant situation. So what do you want now? There aren't any more soldiers for you to protect and I get the feeling these refugees don't want to harm us either, so there is no need for you to protect them. Now, what is it that you want from us?"

"To join you," Leliana said. That was a rather vague statement. Still, she continued and explained. "I know you are on a quest, are you not?" How she guessed that left many questions to be asked.

Tristan smirked at her, trying to dissuade her with his charm. Something he used often in his younger days. "No offense is intended with these words but it is neither your business nor that of the Chantry on what we do. But to answer your question, we aren't on some quest we're mere travelers."

"I know you aren't Grey Wardens," she responded with a smirk of her own. The redhead lass clearly played this persuasion game before. "I just thought you could use an extra body on your journey is all."

Tristan replied to her with silence, which he knew was more than enough to answer her questions. This Sister was clearly not just a member of the Cloister, meaning he had to tread carefully with his next words.

"So you are on a quest to stop the Blight," Leliana remarked with triumph. "I take it that you will need all the help you can get and you must know that I am fairly capable of aiding you."

"We do actually," Tristan regretfully agreed. He sighed in defeat, already he knew he could not best this woman with words but that did not mean he could not best her with steel. The warden knew that such an act would be unlike the gentlemen he trained to be. "But I don't understand how you can help us," now he was attempting to read her. "I mean what can a Lay Sister of the Chantry do other than pray for our sins? Or are you more than that?" _The last thing we need is another distraction. We have more than enough already._

He saw Leliana's mood change from happy to something more remorseful but for only a mere moment as she put on a smile once more. There appeared to be something troubling, probably from her past. Tristan would not ask her now but instead he would wait. She would tell them the truth one day but he would settle for a lie for now, he couldn't afford such luxuries with the predicament they were in.

"Yes," the redhead spoke. "I do have more skills in certain areas than others who wear the cloth but I assure you I can help."

"Are you good with a bow," Kainan spoke up. Once again, the mage addressed an issue they had. In their party they had three warriors, two mages, two war hounds and a single true archer. Tristan did have skill with a bow but knew Lyna was far better than him and they could not risk sacrificing a good blade, their best one at that, for a second rate archer. No, they needed a true archer instead.

"That is a very good question," Tristan returned his focus to the Sister. "Are you an archer or at least have some skill in that field of combat? You see as my companion said, we need another archer. If you can handle a bow, we will take you with us."

Once more Leliana winced before replying, "Yes but regretfully," he did not want to hear those words. "I do not own a bow just these two daggers." She drew both her blades and twirled them in between her fingers. They were both curved and each had grips with gold crafted into them. She did have another life, the lead warden was now sure of that. "The clothes I wear and the little coin I possess."

"That is somewhat ironic," Kainan spoke up once more. Tristan could tell the mage was eyeing up the Sister already, he was doing something similar but not in the manner that his companion was. Of that much he was certain. "We actually have several extra, you can choose whichever one you wish to use. However, we do not have many arrows available at the moment. How many shafts are left, fifteen?" He turned to their Dalish companion.

"Seven," Lyna responded. "We used half of them to deal with the bandits on the road. A few of them with half a brain had at least enough sense to run away." She smiled wickedly as she continued. "But she'll have to make do with what we have." The elfess then spat on the ground. Such gestures make any woman unattractive, no matter how beautiful they are.

"I assure you all," Leliana nodded, "That seven is more than enough for the time being. Thank you, for letting me join you."

"Yes," Tristan stated. "Welcome to our merry band of…warriors and mages I guess." _We are what we are._

"I swear that you won't regret this. I knew the Maker had a plan when I had my vision. This was obviously it, I am glad to be traveling with you." Everyone looked at the woman, most baffled. Save for Morrigan, who only rolled her eyes and shook her head with disgust. Maybe recruiting the Sister was not the wisest of things.

"Not only are we recruiting nuns but we are recruiting the insane ones at that," the witch commented. Flemeth did warn Tristan that if he allowed Morrigan to speak her mind, he would regret it after a day. So far he found the woman to be humorous. More so than Alistair at times but he didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings, so he kept those thoughts to himself. "'Tis going to be a long Blight indeed if we keep getting more and more people to join us. Who is going to be next? Chaisaind? Mercenaries? What about pirates? How many people do you intend to recruit Warden?"

On second thought, Morrigan could be very infuriating at times. "As many as necessary, Morrigan," Tristan took in a deep breath. "We will have as many join us as it is necessary. So Leliana, did you say the Maker gave you a vision?"

The Sister hesitated but she did eventually answer. "Yes," she mumbled. "I had a vision, a dream but I would call it more of a nightmare actually. It was of the Blight and…I'd rather not discuss it now. At a later time, when it is away from others, can we discuss this some more? I think that would be best, don't you agree?"

Tristan gave a quick smirk in agreement. He may have made a hasty decision when he said the Sister could join them but he couldn't reverse his decision. After all he couldn't be picky when it came to help, especially during this Blight.

"Tristan," Kainan whispered. "I don't think we should stay here any longer than we need to."

"I know, Kainan." The lead Warden saw a majority of the tavern's patrons began eyeing them, some with the intention of killing them. Clearly they were over staying their welcome. "I see them," he turned to the door, making sure that it wasn't being blocked. Once assured he turned to his companions, "Duran, Alistair."

"Yeeeessssssss," Alistair replied. The former Templar turned Warden sure knew when to be sarcastic.

"What," Duran replied with seriousness. Tristan was glad to have at least this companion take him serious at all times.

"Get what we need from this place," the lead Warden then reached for one of his three coin purses. This one being the smallest, it only had ten Sovereigns, and tossing it to the dwarf. "Get any food and drink we may need. The road to Denerim will be a long one, make sure you have enough for a month's journey."

Duran caught it and a smile swiftly swept across his face. "Trust me, Tristan. Would I do any less?"

Their leader simply replied with, "I'm afraid you'll get only wine and brandy. But then," he turned to the other warden, "If I gave it to Alistair, we'd only have cheese. I'd rather be drunk than have a belly full of that infernal food."

"Hey," Alistair defended. "It's delicious. You just don't have any taste in food."

"Shut up, Shem," Lyna groaned. Without saying another word, she strode towards the door. The elfess hated being indoors. She said that she didn't like to be confided into a small space. She was soon back out into the early morning sun, most likely tending to the two Mabaris waiting for their owners.

"I get the feeling she doesn't like me."

"None of us in our merry party cares for you, Alistair," Morrigan followed the Elf's lead and headed for the exit. Her destination wasn't as obvious as Lyna's but Tristan didn't care too much. He figured she'd wait for them nearby. "We merely put up with you."

"Don't listen to her, Alistair," Kainan assured. "We like you, to an extent of course but we still like you."

"Ha, ha, very funny," the former Templar replied. "It was so amusing I forgot why I was laughing." His sarcasm was pitiful, to say the least.

"Enough you two," Tristan ordered. "We need to finish our business here so we can be on our way. The road is long and this trip will be weary. It's best for us to be out of Loithering by midday, we will be traveling until late. Leliana," he turned to the Sister once more. "Is there anything of interest around here? Is there anything we can do to earn more coin or perhaps horses and a cart?"

"I don't believe there are any carts left here for sale, I'm afraid, but I know where we can make some coin." She paused as an idea came to her mind. "There is also something else."

"What," Tristan and Kainan asked in unison.

"There is a person you should meet. He could aid us on our journey," Leliana led the two to the entrance. "I believe he was a great warrior but now he's a prisoner."

"Who is he and why is this man is a prisoner," the mage asked.

"It's best you ask him." She paused to turn around. "Then you can decide whether to free him or not. And there is something else you should know, he's a qunari."

* * *

"I still don't understand why you brought the boy with us," Sten coldly stated. The Qunari was a great addition to the party. Sten's people have a history of being the greatest warriors of all of Thedas. But yet none of the companions save for Tristan and Morrigan, which surprised everybody especially Leliana, seemed to trust the warrior. The mistrust was due to them discovering he killed an entire family with his bare hands, without hesitating, and without any mercy. Alistair said they should have left him in the cage to rot although he changed his mind once the Qunari pointed out to the others that there were refugees planning to ambush them as they left the town. He said he saw them preparing an ambush near the road and claimed he overheard them talking about the bounty they were trying to earn. The same bounty put on the heads on all Grey Wardens, which was blessed by the queen.

Once the wardens were given that information, they decided to set up an ambush of their own. With it they killed there would be ambushers with relative ease. Even though the refugees begged and pleaded, Tristan and the others showed them no mercy. It was for the reason that they expected none and knew to show them the same. After the fray and witnessing his companions combat abilities, Tristan had managed to asses all of their weakness and strengths. He would use such knowledge to their benefit in any future fighting, which was inevitable.

Alistair, once again, proved he was formidable with his shield and sword. Something Tristan already knew but wanted to make sure. There was no telling how long the Blight would last as well wanting to know that those he would fight with would have his back and guard it well. The only man Alistair faced received a blow to the chest from his shield followed by a swift cut from his sword, relieving him of his head. It was an impressive feat of strength. A man's head was difficult to cut off, with the bone being so thick and difficult to hack.

Then Morrigan showed, as well as showed off, her ability with magic. The Grey Warden knew she was an intimidating opponent but did not the full measure of her strength but had the confidence she would show it in the coming days. The apostate showed her abilities in both destructive and shape shifting magic. Morrigan demonstrated her ability in controlling both the lightening and ice element. She had frozen the blades of her attackers and caused them to shatter, afterwards, as her opponents' coward in fear. Then she sent waves of electricity through their bodies. It gave them a rather painful and unfortunate death but it was brought on by them. Morrigan then proceeded to turn herself into a bear. Once an animal, she ripped of the face of a man before tearing his companion in half. The witch proved she was as deadly as she was beautiful, in more ways than one.

Kainan just toyed around with his men. The mage found no urgency to kill his attackers and enjoyed having fun with them instead. He used his staff to exchange blows with a swordsman, blocking each of his clumsy attacks. After tiring of playing with him, he used his staff and swung it at his feet, causing the man to lose his footing. Afterwards, he merely shoved one of the pikes down into the man's gullet. In anger, two other refugees then charged the mage. The sodding fools. Kainan responded by flaying the man wielding a kitchen knife and disemboweling the young woman that attempted to hack him with her hatchet.

Duran dealt with his men by simply using his size and strength to his advantage. The dwarf used his smaller war-axe in favor of the larger double moon axe on his back. He overmatched the four men that mustered the courage to combat him. Then he went through the process of killing them individually. The Dwarf severed the arm off of one of them and left him screaming, however, he was the most fortunate of them. The second man he fought, he left his stomach wide open with his insides lying around him. He died rather quickly. Then the final two were given quicker deaths but they were not too pleasant. Both men were shoved to the ground before the dwarf separated their heads from their bodies. Duran had shown he was a true savage, something every warrior fears to fight but wants with them.

Leliana and Lyna were at a distance and used their bows to aid in the fight. The two women were precise in their shots. It seemed that each arrow they fired had claimed a life, their concentration was very inspiring. At the end of it all, the two used only nine arrows between them. Eight of those nine had claimed a life, with the ninth one being a warning shot.

The newest member of the party, Sten, was also occupied in the scuffle. He used his strength and size to his advantage, a rather frightening advantage. The Qunari simply lifted men off of their feet and flung them across the air. The sight was similar to a child throwing a ragdoll. The refuges screamed as their bones cracked during landing. They made a terrible mistake when they decided to combat a qunari. Sten would then proceed towards his fallen foe, in a calm manner, and casually stomp on their necks. He gave them a clean but painful death. Towards the end of the fighting he took the sword off one of their dead. It was quite large and it looked fairly heavy but yet he managed to swing it easily. The last man whose life he claimed was sliced in half by that sword. Sten had proven his worth and more during this skirmish.

"I couldn't leave him there," Tristan replied. "I don't trust people in the Chantry. No offense," he called out to Leliana and Alistair. "I just don't think they're well…honest. Besides, he lost his mother and father." Their leader turned his head back towards their cart where their newest, but temporary, companion was sleeping. "I know a woman in Denerim who will take him in. There he can get everything he needs."

Tristan's mind returned to early in the day when they found the boy. He was standing on the bridge, looking for his mother and wondering where she was. The Grey Warden thought, more so he knew, the child's mother was dead but gave the boy no such notion. Instead he gave him some coin for food. He hoped that a relative would soon fetch him but no such luck. So in the end he made a deal with the Chantry Brother watching him, for custody of the boy.

In exchange for helping the Chantry in eradicating mercenaries, bears, giant spiders on the town outskirts, they would be given a fairly decent sized wagon with two horses, coin and the boy to take with them. Tristan saw it as a fair deal and agreed to it. The Brother felt guilty and even threw in a blade to sweeten the deal. He called it the Oath Keeper.

The Oath Keeper was fairly decent. The steel was not the best fashioned nor was it crafted by unskilled hands. It would do the job in killing people but it could easily be replaced by a better blade. Nevertheless, Tristan accepted it with respect before loading it into the cart and the boy along with it.

The boy, who said his name was Henry, at first protested to leaving with the strange group but managed to be convinced that it was for his best interest, which it was. Tristan had planned on bringing him to Sanga at the Pearl. He knew the Madame for almost fourteen years now and knew she was a woman to be trusted. Despite her profession, she was rather good with children and always helped the women around the brothel when they needed help with the young rascals when they went to work. It was sad that she couldn't conceive her own though but now things would change. Sanga could be that mother she was kept from being and the boy could have a mother again.

"Why show him kindness, it only displays incompetence and weakness. The Qunari would never do such a thing."

"Don't you ever show your children affection or tenderness? I figure you must know those feelings at one point in your lives," Tristan countered. So far none of the others jumped in the conversation. All of them either keeping to themselves or talking to each other in private.

The only ones who did nothing were the two Mabari. Tristan's hound, Friend, was busy sleeping in the wagon along with Kainan's hound, Beauty. The two beasts were keeping Henry company as he slept. So far their jobs were being the boy's playing companions and now they were his pillows. Nevertheless, both would be ready to fight at the drop of a pin when it would be necessary.

"Did you not hear me before," Sten grumbled. "Or do I have to repeat myself?"

Tristan smirked and turned his head to the massive warrior. He knew this man would become a loyal and trustworthy companion, the only thing he had to do before getting there was earning that right from Sten.

"I understand," he stated. "That does not mean I need to agree with you." Their leader looked up at the sky and debated on when they should set camp. By the looks of the sun's position, they had an hour maybe two at most until night would be upon them. It was only a matter of stopping early or going forth until it was late.

"Why have you stopped talking? Did the cat rip out your tongue as you humans say," Sten wondered aloud.

"I'm just debating on when we should set up camp. And it's did that cat catch your tongue," Tristan smiled. "It is getting rather late and I assume everyone's feet must be aching from all the walking on this great highway." There were a few groans, fewer than he imagined actually, but everyone just continued walking.

"I say we go another four miles," Kainan said. He was driving the cart, since he had the most experience with horses. That was a surprising fact about the mage. "I don't want the horses getting too tired. They're not that young you know."

"I would have to agree," Leliana chimed in. "Oakhide and Snowshadow aren't as strong as they used to be," she gestured towards the brown and white Andalusians who looked rather tired. "It's best if we stop soon."

"I agree," Morrigan declared. "We have been going on all day. It's time for us to…" The witch drifted as screams began to fill the dusk air. Except they were not screams, they sound like howls instead.

"Darkspawn," Tristan whispered. He could feel their presence, they weren't too far away. "Can't you feel them," he asked the other Wardens. All though he had been new to the taint, their leader was showing signs of becoming a good warden. His senior, Alistair, admitted it in private to the others. He did not know what to make of it but he did know that Duncan had made a wise decision when he decided to recruit him.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Alistair said. "It sounds like there's a small band of them."

"Help," somebody shouted. "Somebody, anybody, help us! We need help." The voice called again. The companion

"What's going on," Henry cried. "Are monsters attacking us?"

"They're attacking someone else boy," Kainan assured. _It doesn't sound too far off though,_ he rushed to his side. "We'll keep you safe don't worry" He motioned his head to Leliana, she nodded in agreement. The pair had taken a keen interest in the orphan. It was as if they informally adopted him a few short hours after meeting him.

"Keep the boy safe," Tristan turned and ordered. "Understand Friend," the hound barked in agreement. _Good,_ their leader thought. "I'll clear the road ahead. Don't let your guard down for nothing." He then sprinted towards the shouting. He was no longer thinking, just reacting at this point.

"Wait," the Warden heard someone shout. The warden didn't know who it was nor did he care. All that was on his mind was killing the darkspawn nearby and saving the unfortunate souls they were attacking.

After running for a minute, Tristan felt tingling in his spine getting stronger. That meant the creatures were near. _Almost there, _he thought as his legs drove him forward. _I'm almost there._

That was when he saw them. There were six darkspawn attacking two dwarves. It appeared to be a father and his son by the looks of them grasping on to one another. The creatures were not attacking them directly, yet. The creatures' purpose seemed very clear. They were taking weapons from the dwarf's cart. He figured was the dwarves were weapons merchants that had the unfortunate luck of traveling during the Fifth Blight. Once more, Tristan found it ironic that it was always the honest man who suffers the most. At least now he could stop that, he would stop that.

The Grey Warden then reached for the daggers in his quiver as he sprinted towards the melee. Once he had them gripped in his hands, he attacked.

Tristan threw the dagger in his right hand at a genlock sporting a crossbow. It had it aimed at the two dwarves and seemed ready to pull the trigger. The blade struck the creature in its back and it howled in pain as it collapsed onto the ground. The cries of pain alerted its companions who turned their focus onto their attacker.

The next unfortunate creature to meet Tristan was another genlock. It wielded two daggers of its own and it was trying to charge him. The Grey Warden grasped out for it as soon as its neck was within his reach. Once he was choking the creature, the warden lifted the foul smelling creature into the air. He then sunk his blade into its skull, it made a cracking sound as its bone was pierced. Thus blood spurted from the wound and got on to his face. Tristan dropped the fresh corpse, along with the dagger embedded in its neck, and reached for his grandfather's blade on his hip. He drew the broadsword off his belt in a swift but flawless motion.

**Clank**

As soon as his steel was in the air, it met the blade of a hurlock. With all of his strength, Tristan pushed his blade forward to break his foe off of him. The hurlock staggered backwards before it regained its footing and attacked again the Warden again. In anticipation, Tristan ducked under the wild attack and slipped around the darkspawn. He lifted up his blade and pushed it into the creature's back. The sword went straight through the hurlock's chest and ripped its ways through it before reappearing on the other side. Like his other kills, the creature howled before it went limp.

Tristan didn't even have the time to pull out his blade for the next attack, so instead he grabbed the elvish knife on his belt. He whirled round then thrusted the edge into his foe. The Hurlock spat out a mouthful of blood as it gazed at its killer with hate and bloodlust. It tried to lift its blade but to no avail it fell to the ground lifeless as its owner collapsed next to it just as useless.

Tristan sheathed his knife as he turned to grab his sword from the dead hurlock's body. Once his blade was his again, he returned his focus two his last to remaining enemies. All that was left of the darkspawn were two hurlocks. Unfortunately they were not grunts like the other two. One was a vanguard, wearing golden armor and carrying a large battle-axe similar to Duran's. The other was an emissary, covered in blood and war paint while carrying a cruel looking staff. One of its hands was releasing a green smoke while the other confidently gripped its weapon.

"Well now," Tristan smiled. He had a gleam in his eyes as he prepared himself. "Which one of you wants to die first?" He began to circle around his enemy, waiting for them to attack.

The first of them to attack was the vanguard. The darkspawn eagerly accepted his invitation and ran towards the warden at full speed. While doing so, it lifted its axe into the air, ready to strike. Tristan used the creature's momentum to his benefit. As the axe stared to come down on him, he gripped the edge of his sword, tightly, with his gloved left hand and dodged the attack. Except, instead of only dodging the attack Tristan brought the cross-guard of his sword down hard and implanted it into the exposed area on the back of the hurlock's neck. It was another swift and flawless kill.

Tristan then eyed his final for. He was breathing heavy, clearly tired from the long day. "After I'm through killing you," he lifted his blade and pointed it at the Emissary. "I'm going to have dinner and go to bed. What do you say," he asked. Even though it was pointless, the warden continued. "Does that not sound excellent to you as it does to me?"

The Emissary grunted as it was preparing a spell.

"Figured as much," Tristan lifted his blade and was about to charge until he was rudely interrupted.

**Twang**.

An arrow flew right by his head and struck the hurlock in its heart, if it had one. The darkspawn hit the ground dead, just like the rest of its companions.

"Now why did you go and do that," Tristan turned to ask Lyna. The elfess was standing right behind, no more than an arm's reach away, with her bow lifted and a fresh arrow in hand.

"I can't let you have all the fun," she replied. The elfess shook her head with disbelief, "What is it with you shems and achieving glory?" She then walked over to one of the genlocks that was unfortunate enough to still be breathing. "We Dalish simply kill to survive," she pulled the dagger out of the creatures back. It howled in pain as it was dying.

Lyna then hoisted the elvish blade in the air before impaling it into the creature's skull. Now the infuriating beast was dead.

"Where are the others," Tristan asked. "Not too far behind I hope?"

"They were right behind me and should be here soon. I told them to not worry since you have done that before. Run off into the fray without a second thought and return just as you left. They shall be here momentarily." The elfess brushed passed him and to the dwarves. "Are you two alright?"

"Yes," the elder dwarf replied. "Yes we're quite alright. At least now we are. Right boy," he turned to the dwarf who appeared to be his son. His son merely nodded his head, clearly still terrified by what had taken place.

"It will be alright son, these nice people helped us and now we can be on our way." The dwarf then turned his focus to the two Wardens. "Thank you miser and thank you milady, if it were not for you two, we would be…I don't want to think about it."

"Think nothing of it," Tristan replied. "Are you a weapons merchant?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I saw the darkspawn taking apart your cart and taking weapons from it," the dwarf's eye widened with fear. "I do not care if you are… I mean I do for the reason that we can use them. You see for most of my other companions, myself included, are Grey Wardens and are in need of new weapons."

"You're Grey Wardens," he asked. It seemed that this dwarf was even more terrified.

"Yes but-"

"Put her there," the dwarf extended his hand to Tristan. In return he took it and they exchanged the kindly motion. "My name is Bodhan Feddic and this is my boy Sandal. Say hello to the nice Wardens son."

"Hello," Sandal said. He seemed a little simple but both Tristan and Lyna knew there was something more to the boy. There was also something more to everything.

"At a boy," Bodhan said. "So where is it that you're off to? Me and the boy as well can help you in your travels if you help us with ours."

Tristan smiled, knowing full well as to what the dwarf was doing. He had to admit, that was smart business. "You give us a good price on your goods and we help you with your merchandise."

"That sounds fair," the dwarf quickly agreed. Even though he would, most likely, still charge the same rates, the warden could not help but like that about him. Feddic seemed to know how to be a proper businessman. "But there is much more to it. My boy here is good with enchantments, aren't you Sandal."

"Enchantment," he replied with by clapping his hands. The boy was clearly simple.

"We can also give you all the goods and weapons you need, at a reasonable price. I also know all the major merchants and vendors from Orzammar to Denerim, so I can help you get a good selling and buying price. What do you say?"

"Do you feel like staying with us," Lyna asked. She was getting very curious about the dwarf. Out of the few dwarfs she met in her young life, this was the only one whose company she enjoyed. She only met five dwarves but still, this was the only one she liked.

Bodhan merely smiled, "I have a feeling your all on a quest to end this Blight, if I am not mistaken." The Wardens responded with silence. "I knew it, all I'm saying is that we can help you with all the goods and weapons you need and in return you let us travel with you. I can think of no safer people to travel with."

Tristan chuckled, "What makes you believe we are good company to travel with?"

"I think the evidence speaks for itself," Bodhan gestured to all of the dead darkspawn lying around them. "And if there are more of you, it just makes me, and my boy, feel all the safer."

"All right, Bodhan," Tristan slapped the dwarf on the shoulder. "Welcome to the group."

"Excellent," the dwarf said. "Now we just have to…" The dwarf trailed off as he saw his dead oxen lying in front of his cart. "You would not happen to have another horse or ox with you by chance?"

"Actually," Tristan turned round to see the rest of their companions from afar. All of them had their arms at the ready but it was now pointless. Their enemy had been defeated, at least for now. "We do have a spare horse."

"Ha, haa" the dwarf wheezed. "I can already tell this is going to be the beginning of a grand adventure."

"Enchantment," Sandal added with delight.

_This is going to be a long journey, _Lyna dreaded.

**So this is Chapter 1, R&R if you like. F&F as well. There is more to come. I own nothing. This will not be a normal DA FF, it will be taking a darker look to the game. I own nothing but OC and I'm having fun.**

**Updated for grammar/wording on 7/27**

**Updated on 5/8/2013**

**Updated 10/8/2013**

**Thanks to Bahtorybabe for helping me with all my mishaps and such. **


	2. Appearances

After aiding Bodhan and Sandal load up and fix their wagon, the party continued to travel north east to Denerim. After another hour of traveling, they stopped to make camp in a nearby forest clearing along the highway. It seemed to be a rather safe and comfortable area to make camp. The area was remote and spacious, more than enough for the large group. There was even a small pond in the vicinity, in case any of the companions had the desire to wash away the troubles, the smell ideally, of the day away. With neither complaints nor quarrels they made their camp.

The center of the clearing was where the party had set up their place for the night. They had their tents and bedrolls relatively close, in case of a nightly ambush. Only Morrigan did not partake in that. The witch felt more comfortable with setting up her tent farthest from the camp, towards the outskirts. There she could do whatever she wanted, without any of the others bothering her. A few of them even made jokes about what she would be doing so far away. Alistair said something about her sacrificing children and drinking the blood of virgins. Then Duran made a joke about how she was going to pleasure herself to the thought of Tristan. It turned out Leliana, one of their newest additions, was not alone in the thought of her finding their leader desirable. It was something he said he did not notice. Overall some of the jokes were laughed at, while others were found to be less humorous.

Lyna was the one amongst them who spoke out about the. She said she found the ideas that the Templar put forward to be amusing, Duran's did not receive the same enthusiasm. The elfess threatened him and it was in Dalish so he could not understand. But, she did point to his crotch and made a slicing gesture with an invisible knife. Making her threat clear and the jokes about such matters disappear.

After the jokes and threats were finished, everyone began to simply rest. All of them were huddle around the fire, except Morrigan who sat alone at the one by her separate encampment. Tristan was lying down on the dirt, still sporting his armor, gazing at the stars on the clear night. He kept his weapons nearby and not too far from his reach. His bow was lying next to him, still in its quiver along with his daggers. Then his sword was lying flat in his chest, with his whetstone in hand.

Lyna was sitting next to him, lying down actually. She was on top of her bedroll and gazed up at the stars. She kept her daggers in hand and had the rest of her equipment at her side well within her reach. The elfess began to point out the constellations of her people and eventually Tristan joined in with her. The two of them gazing up at the stars and laughing about what they were told as children. It was as if they were reaffirming an old friendship. The signs were visible as Lyna made her way towards his side. Her fellow warden flinched as he saw her approaching him. In return she replied by saying she thought he would want company. Then what followed was a reluctant but warming yes. After that they talked and began what they were still doing, star gazing.

Sten took a spot nearest to the fire. He had changed out of the ragged clothes he had been wearing in the cage and now bore a plain linen shirt on top of plain trousers that Bodhan had given him but elected to keep his boots. The qunari was also offered a chance to equip new armor from the dwarf but elected not to get any. He said that it would be pointless since the merchant would most likely not have anything else in his size. Even so, Sten did acquire two new spears from Bodhan and also a fresh whetstone. He was currently occupied with sharpening his massive sword. He watched it closely as it glistened against the fire, its simple color shining brightly against the flame. Next to him, he also had his spears lined up. The qunari seemed battle ready, despite his focus turned towards maintaining his weapon.

Duran, like Sten, took a place close to the fire. The dwarf made himself comfortable at his spot. He also kept his axes lying on his bedroll. They were several feet behind him but it didn't appear to be much of an issue to him. His focus was currently on the label-less bottle of wine he was nursing. It gave him a calmer demeanor, although he was a slightly agitated when pressed if that would be his only drink. He shouted, loud enough for the Ancestors to hear him, that it would be his only drink. Now, getting moderately drunk, the dwarf sat contently in his new simple clothes, like Sten's and most of the party's. Bodhan had given them each one, as a token of good favor, which none of them rebuffed. It was a good night time garment and made resting more comfortable. The only one who did not take it was the same one who refused to camp by the others, Morrigan.

Kainan was with Leliana, and the two were with Henry. The former Sister had taken the boy towards the pond, where he could bathe himself. She said he reeked and he had to, since it would probably be his last one until Denerim. Unless they reached another water source to do such an act but stopping for a simple luxury like that was unlikely. They both kept an eye on the boy as he cleaned himself, both of them talking to each other to pass the time. More than once, Leliana had asked the mage as to where his eyes were wandering to. She had caught him more than once trying to peer down her shirt. Kainan would just smile in return and say he was distracted by something, which he was. Her figure became more alluring due to her new clothing, it accented her breasts rather well and it gave them a welcoming sight. They would then continue their conversation as if nothing had happened, to avoid any confrontation. To this point they had been discussing her time in the Cloister and the mage was asking about her life there.

"I can't imagine a woman like you being in the Chantry," the mage smirked. His companion could not help but steal glances and allow her eyes to inspect him. Just like he was doing to her, neither of them had protested it thus far. "You just don't seem to fit the right description of a nun to me."

"Oh and why is that," Leliana responded. She had a sense that the mage was flirting with her, so in response she simply rebuffed him. Not showing any interest, all though she did find herself attracted to the man. "Why can't you see me as a Lay Sister?"

"You know a beautiful and charming woman such as yourself…it just does not seem to fit the picture of the chantry in my eyes. It's just strange, if you will."

"Oh and you did not think there were any other beautiful and charming women in the Cloister, then you would be wrong. There were many beautiful and enchanting women there. But, unlike me, they had taken vows. It was if they were…Forbidden Fruit. You could merely gaze at them but could not do anything more. I'm sure there must have been beautiful women and very handsome men in the circle, amongst both the mages and Templars, no?" She smirked, thinking herself to be victorious.

Kainan winced for a brief moment but recovered smiled back before replying, "What about your fruit," he asked. His tone changed, becoming more persuasive. "Is it forbidden?"

"My…my fruit," the red head did not expect that. "It's not technically forbidden but it's not given freely either." _Maker what have I gotten myself into. _"I can't even believe I am having this conversation," _with you no less. _

"My apologies," the mage replied. _I am familiar with this game, Leliana. Oh, how I am familiar with this game. _"I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I'll just leave you be," he walked away from her towards the main camp. Before being out of ear shot he heard her whisper something about him being infuriating or something else along those lines. He could only chuckle more as he walked away but not before turning his head round to see her looking back at him. Neither of them could help but admire the others new clothing.

Back at the camp, Alistair had been preparing the evenings meal. He had been given the task of being the night's chef by Tristan and both of them were too tired to argue so the warden accepted the task he was given. The former Templar was making a lamb stew and had a narrow selection of vegetables to work with. All he had to use was carrots, cabbage and several small potatoes. He used whatever culinary skills he had, which did not amount to much to. He could barely prepare the meat right, let alone cook dinner for a large group. So he enlisted the help from the others, most rebuffed him and continued what they were doing. The only one who didn't was Lyna. She saw her fellow warden struggle with his task and went to help, leaving Tristan alone.

Alistair did find it rather odd that the elf was spending time with their leader. He remembered witnessing them spending an awful lot of time together at Ostagar and on their trip to Loithering. At first they seemed to be hostile towards one another but that gradually changed and their attitude towards one another became friendly. If he knew any better, he'd say they were sharing a bedroll but it couldn't be that. The others would have known about it by now. Or it could have meant they were now friends but it didn't seem to be that simple either. Whatever it was, Alistair knew the matter was not simple. He would just have to wait and see what would happen.

In the meantime, he had a stew to finish. It was the same stew that was beginning to boil right above the roaring fire in front of him. The same fire that sent sparks on to his new clothes, which began to burn and catch fire.

"Ah, put it out. Put it out," Alistair began to pat down on the flame, in hopes of extinguishing it. "Help me. One of you, help me."

"Damnit, shem," Lyna groaned. The elfess quickly opened her flask and poured whatever water was in there on to the small patch of fire on his arm. The flame disappeared quickly. "Be careful next time." She left him to return to what had occupied her earlier.

"Aren't you going to help me see if I'm alright?"

"You're fine," the elfess groaned. She then turned her head towards the sky and once more gazed at the endless sea of light.

_Thanks, I guess._ Alistair checked his arm and saw it was fine; the place where the fire was just turned his flesh a little red. There was nothing he could do other than either ignore it or complain about it. Not wanting to annoy his companions further, he said nothing and just continued to stir the pot. He then began to hear a chuckle.

Right away he knew it was Morrigan. The former Templar looked towards her camp and saw her laughing to herself. _So it was her doing, I should have known. _He groaned as he turned his focus back towards the pot. He could still hear her laughing, her loud obnoxious laugh. Not being able to control himself he uttered a single word so that she did not hear him, in fear of retaliation. That word was _bitch_.

Tristan was quite relaxed. There was something about the night sky that comforted him. Ever since he was a child he loved to look at the stars. He loved the night sky so much that as a lad he would go out on top of the battlements of his old home and sit atop them as he would watch them. At first it was with his mother and father but as time went on it then turned into an activity him and his brother would do until eventually it was something he shared with only his younger sister.

_Elissa, _he thought. Ever since that ill-fated night he had been wondering about her well-being. She was never far off from his thoughts. Most of the images he imagined were of the worst possible outcome, rape and torture. Each new one was more horrific than the last. The last dark thought that plagued Tristan's mind was an old Orleasian torture that involved a small chisel and a person's teeth. The torture was extremely agonizing, extensive and crippling. All those who had gone through it couldn't eat properly anymore and left their mouth a gruesome sight to witness. But he didn't keep such thoughts for long, even though they most likely occurred. The warden envisioned his sister alive and in hiding but had no such thoughts regarding his brother. Fergus was either lying dead from the blade of an assassin or darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds, along with any of the men who were still loyal to their family.

Tristan tried to force out such horrors from his mind yet they would only disappear for only moments before plaguing him once more. The warden had not had such foolish hopes since before his trials into knighthood. Such childish beliefs died the day he swore fealty to the lord his father sent him to serve. That man taught him that those thoughts were death, that they were a man's undoing. That a man should accept what fate has given them and that he had done so when he was a child and had said goodbye to his mother that was butchered by animals. Tristan's mentor had ever since hated the Orleasians.

Then the warden's thoughts turned to his father. All though he was a Teyrn and one of the most powerful men in all of Ferelden, he was not like how most nobles were. Bryce Cousland was a kind and caring man. Even when he had to play the part of a nobleman, he still acted as if he was a commoner. A skill that made the people under his banner offer him undying loyalty, it was also a talent he made sure his children had possessed. Bryce had taught his, as he called them, spitfires many more lessons that varied from proper etiquette, history, various forms of combat, tactics amongst the many he made them learn. It reminded Tristan of the saying his father used on more than one occasion, '_A Cousland will always do their duty, no matter the cost or price that must be paid._' At one point in his life, the warden merely ignored those words and felt his father was wasting his breath. Now they were burned into his mind and were one of the many things haunting him. Ever since that night…

"Oi, Tristan," someone beckoned.

The lead warden, now back into the present, stopped gazing at the stars and pushed himself up off the dirt. Once sitting up, he saw Duran standing in front of him and Lyna on the other side of them camp. _I mustn't' had heard her go, _he shrugged.

"What is it Duran," he asked. Then he began to limber up, cracking his neck and stretching his arms. The ground he was laying one wasn't as soft as the ground from a memory. "It better be important."

"It is," the dwarf huffed. "Dinner's ready or can't you smell it?" He seemed both annoyed and amused with his leader.

"I wouldn't be surprised… I think I got lost in the stars." It was statement that Tristan meant to be both humorous and truthful, since it was both.

The Grey Warden shook his head before letting out a soft chuckle. "You surfacers and your sky, I'm surprised none of you fall up with all of it there." The dwarf wouldn't let up an opportunity to tell his companions about how much he hated the sky.

"Take your armor off. You're with friends here." The dwarf pointed towards himself and then to the other members of their party, all of them had changed from their armors in favor of the comfortable linens Bodhan had given them out of generosity and good will.

"Doesn't matter if I am," he spoke earnest. There was no telling if there were bandits within the outskirts of their camp or more darkspawn like the ones who attacked Bodhan. It was too much to risk to chance. "I don't know what's out there and I don't wish to find out unprepared."

Duran let out a groan, from annoyance, as he approached his companion. "You should stop being so damn…what's the word…ah."

"Prudent or Pragmatic, my short friend." All though he was a dwarf, the man had an issue with anyone who insulted him for his size. Tristan constantly tested him, trying to see if the dwarf would one day have enough.

"One day, Tristan I will lose patience." It appeared his silver tongue would have to work harder. The dwarf was good at keeping his temper, as well as his other emotions, in check. A rare skill to have in the world they lived in.

"Well, then let's hope it's after dinner, shall we?"

Duran grunted and led his companion to the rest of their party. All of them were now huddled around the fire, eating whatever it was Alistair had prepared them. By the smell it gave off from a distance, the animal must have been still alive when he cooked it. The two wardens sheepishly groaned, dreading the idea of their meal.

Alistair had planned to be a nice and quiet dinner, turned out to be the opposite of his desires. His companions were quiet for the most part. They spent their time forcing down what he made for them without any real enthusiasm. Even he had to admit he could barely stomach his own slop but continued to do so anyway in hopes the others might do as he did. Those attempts failed miserably.

"What is this," Leliana grunted, both breaking the silence and speaking the thoughts of the others. "It tastes like a dead rat."

"I've had rat," Kainan was chewing on a small bone. "Don't insult the meat like that, it tastes better than this garbage. Even the slop at the Circle was better than your cooking Alistair."

"Where did you eat rat," Leliana raised a brow. Out of their entire party, she seemed to strike up a friendship with the mage.

"I just said the food at the Circle was better than this." He wiped off some of the juices that trailed on to his face. "That should answer your question well enough."

"It's not that bad," Alistair was beginning to have his fill of insults. At first he dealt with only Morrigan and that was manageable, barely. Now, it seemed that all of his companions were insulting him to no end.

"It is," Sten declared. A small clunking noise filled the air, the qunari loosened his grip on the bowl causing it to spill whatever was left in it all over the cold dirt. "I fear if I continue eating what you made, I'll die of a sickness."

"You know what," he finally had his fill of insults. "I don't care, eat it or don't eat it. You can all starve for all I care." The warden didn't care anymore about his companions, the stress and all that had been haunting him, finally caught up. "Go fuck," he felt something hit him across the back of his head.

Tristan, now standing behind him, had his palm open and raised it to strike once more. He had enough of his fellow warden's words, there was a point in which you would defend yourself and then there was the point in which one would go too far. Alistair had taken the second route.

"Watch your tongue," his drifted eyes towards the child sitting at the opposite end of the fire. Henry had been quiet so far during the dinner and was now looking rather nervous, unsure of what to do and those he traveled with.

"Oh, right," Alistair knew Morrigan was right. He was a fool, a complete and utter one at that. He had forgotten they had the boy with them and allowed his emotions to get the best of him. He hadn't been able to keep them in check since Ostagar. At time he would venture out on his own and succumb to the despair he had fallen into. The warden felt he couldn't cope with what had transpired at the battle, he had been trying his best but nothing seemed to help him. He felt there was nothing at all.

"I'm sorry," he forced those words from his lips. His pride and shame made them difficult to say. "I didn't mean…I'm sorry."

Tristan then patted his companion on the shoulder before walking away, taking his spot next to Duran and Lyna once more. The pair, like the rest of the party, were quiet. Silence once again became their language. None of them spoke to each other and kept their eyes on the single fire in camp.

"'Tis strange don't you think," Morrigan called to them. She had left her camp to join them at their fire. She probably wanted to see what was going on after their disagreement had taken place.

"What's strange," Alistair asked. He figured that he should end the silence. He didn't like just hearing the crackling of fire, there was something about the sound that was off putting to him. "Well then, what is it?"

"Before I was rudely interrupted," she sneered, smiling as she did so, "I thought it 'twas strange that none of us know who the others are. We are going to be traveling with each other during this coming Blight it 'twould seem fair that we know those who we'd be combating with." All though the woman's soul was as black as her hair, she made sense.

"Why do I have a hard time believing you," Alistair couldn't believe the words that came from the witch's lips. He swore that they were the best ones he had ever heard her say.

"That's enough Alistair," this time it was Duran telling him to hold his tongue. "Besides, she's has a point."

"See, at least one of you agrees with me." Morrigan then walked across the fire and took a seat in between Henry and Kainan. The others eyed her as she turned her focus on to the one in front of her, Tristan. "Who'd care to go first?"

None of the party members responded at first, until finally one of them did.

"Sod it," Duran spat. "I was born and raised in Orzammar. I was lost in the deep roads until I found a group of wardens. I had to fight dozens of darkspawn, some of em' I killed with my teeth. They gave me a drink from a flask and now here I am, full-fledged Grey Warden."

"Interesting," Morrigan now turned her attentions towards another member of their group. She was clearly bored by the dwarf's story and sought another. "Sten, why are you here?"

"That is none of your concern, witch," he gave her a warning. The qunari have a history of only giving one, if they give any.

"'Twas unwise if me," Morrigan's continued with her persistence. "Kainan, why are you a warden or do you feel like not sharing with us?"

Her fellow mage did not flinch; he just continued to sit in silence. It appeared as if he was debating as to whether or not remain silent or take action against this woman pestering him.

"It was either this or die fighting the Templars," he spoke with neither malic nor pride. Speaking plainly he continued, "A warden happened to be present at the tower when I was in my predicament and conscripted me on the spot." _Can't help but wish he wasn't, there would be a whole mess of dead Templars otherwise._

"Now why were you in that situation," Alistair once again found his tongue. He was also having some suspicions about the mage, there was always something different about him. Whenever Templars were mentioned around him, he would become a different person almost immediately. It wasn't as if they were wrong, Templars had a duty to keep the mages in check. As a Templar, Alistair knew that very well.

"Why the sudden interest, Templar," he said the rank venomously. "I'm sure you aren't that interested with my time in the Circle."

"Indulge me," he responded. "I'm sure it was very interesting, mage." The same amount of venom was in his voice.

"Enough," Morrigan declared. "Settle you quarrel another time," the hostilities ended abruptly but were far from gone. "Sister, why did you join us? You said it 'twas due to a vision. Do you care to explain, mmmm?"

Leliana sat silently. Her focus was on the bowl in her hands, not caring about the persistence of the witch. Alistair found himself to be curious, it was one of the rare times her saw the woman silent. One day of traveling with that woman had told him that her mouth has no limitations and she would converse on and on.

""Tis something wrong, nun? Do you not have your voice?" She hoped for a response but received none. "Fine then, if you do not wish to talk then I will simply ask another. You there, Sten, tell us your story."

"I traveled here by ship," his voice was cold. It gave off a chill that could only come from a freezing wind.

"Surely there is more to it than just that, you qunari have such a history." Her banter seemed to have dampened everyone's moods. Alistair could not help but wish that Flemeth's warning had been headed instead of ignored but instead Tristan had given her his blessings to speak her mind.

"What else do you want to hear? I killed a family and was thrown into a cage like a groveling animal. What is that not what you wanted to hear?"

"Uh, never mind then…Lyna," she recovered. The witch and the elfess had a rivalry between them so far in the journey. It would either grow into something worse or becoming nothing more than a memory. "Do you feel like sharing your story with the rest of us?"

"Go fuck yourself witch," Lyna replied without hesitation. She had proven on more than one occasion that she had a temper. The two of the bandits they had dealt with earlier in the morning had discovered that for themselves. One had lost his sight and the other had lost his tongue. Barely into womanhood, Lyna ascertained a gift for taking life. No small task for a girl who could pose as a servant or refugee that had taken part in collecting in on the spoils of war.

"I shall pretend I did not hear that, girl," Morrigan said the last words mockingly. Just to point out that she was the woman between the two of them, physically that is. "Handsome lad, tell us your story. I'm sure the others are as curious to hear it as I am. Besides I believe 'tis expected of one to tell those under his command."

Tristan could not help but cringe, he had that word. Handsome, it was more of a curse in his mind that anything by the way he reacted he time he heard it. Alistair made not of that the first time Morrigan had said it to him, when they had ventured into the wilds as part of his trials before the joining. She must have as well, since she said it to him nearly each time they spoke.

"No," he responded. "What's expected of a leader is to give orders and keep those under his command in check." His voice was not harsh but neither was it stern. He kept himself calm and passive, seeing past the witch and her games.

"Defensive now are we, did I wound your pride?" She continued with her games. "Come now Grey Warden, tell us and I shall stop this."

He continued to sit silent and kept all of his focus on the crackling fire. The warden's face was illuminated by the light, giving him a more grim appearance than the friendly one he normally kept. "I should go on my watch," he stood up and made a strange clicking sound with his tongue.

Friend then came darting towards his master and had to run through two people to do so. Sten managed to move before the hound grazed him with his fur. Morrigan, not as lucky, hit the dirt face first. When she lifted her head, she was spitting out bits of the earth and rubbing the dust off her face. She wasn't smug anymore and she seemed much more like a witch of the wilds with her face and hair decorated with grime.

"I apologize for that Morrigan," Tristan allowed a smile to creep on his face. "He mustn't have seen you."

"Obviously you bastard," with those words she stormed off back to her camp, leaving echoes of laughter in her wake.

"We should head off to out watch now, shouldn't we boy," the Mabari happily barked at his master's words. "Good boy."

"Wait, we should have established watches now, shouldn't we." Alistair scratched his head, feeling rather dimwitted. "Someone should…"

"You'll be joining me for tonight," their leader spoke for him. "Get your armor and meet me by those trees when you're done." Tristan then led Friend towards the brush. Soon both the master and his hound were enveloped by the dark, both of them waiting for their next companion to join them.

"Right," the Templar could think of nothing else. "So since I'll be off on guard duty tonight, I guess I should get going then. I guess that means you should take care of the plates Lyna."

"What," the elfess looked up. She had no clue as to why she should do such a petty chore. "Why should I clean up your filth?"

"Since you left my side to go and gaze at the stars, look I don't want to go on this watch. So please, for our friendship, just do it."

"Fine," she knew it was best not to argue, figuring that the others would force her to do it even if she did manage to convince him otherwise.

"Thank you," with that he left the fire. Alistair walked towards his gear and began to put on his armor on, piece by piece. He reached for his sword. It was an old but sturdy blade, given to him by Duncan once he survived his joining. The blade was smooth and about the length and girth of his arm. He weaved the grey iron blade in his hand for a moment before returning it to the sheath on his back. Then walked into the brush where his companion had ventured, ready for the long night.

Tristan had made himself comfortable near a tree, with his longbow lying on his lap. He had a habit of tracing the wood with his fingertips. To ensure the carvings were still there. He rather enjoyed them. The tracings of a forest life, both of trees and animals, occupied the wood. Wolves and deer like creatures were at each tip of the weapons, while branches appeared in between them, to connect the two different creatures. A testament as to how both a predator and its prey could live together. After feeling the weapon, he placed it aside and reached for his sword. The same ritual that had been done for the bow was now being done on his blade.

Tristan could not help but admire his family's sword. The blade was old and should be frail but it was a deceiving feature. It could still cut through flesh and rip off bone from body. He saw it as a testament to his family's resolve through the years. The…a branch cracked it the distance. It was a soft noise but loud enough for him to hear and surely loud enough for Friend as well. The hound's head was in the air, his lips now exposed his teeth. He was ready to kill if nescesary but it wasn't.

"You should be more quiet, Alistair," he called out. "If I can hear you, then so can the darkspawn."

"Shut up," his companion replied. "Where are you anyway, I can't see worth a damn through this darkness."

"Over here," Tristan stood from his spot on the forest floor and placed his blade in the moonlight, signaling his companion.

After a few moments, Alistair found him and took a seat next to him. "Shouldn't we set a fire?" The night wasn't too cold, but chilly at some points.

"I'd rather not, it doesn't feel necessary. It feel warm to me, there is not threat of freezing." He chuckled as his gaze was fixed on the shadows in front of him once more. A part of him expected something to appear from them.

"Alright, alright," the Templar snorted. "So why am I really here? Is it because of what happened at camp?"

_So you aren't that stupid. _The lead warden chuckled, surprised at how fast his companion had caught on to him. "That and other things, we have important matters to discuss."

"What?"

"What Morrigan did back at camp, was something I cannot blame her for doing. It was clever and a necessity by some measure." Tristan did not care for the witch by any measure. Save for her flesh, but that is entirely different situation and it was bearable. There was something different about her but he could not find the words for it. She seemed to have a different purpose for joining them, which did not involve ending the Blight. She was a difficult woman that he could not figure out.

"What, driving us all mad and at each other's' throats," the silence did more than answer his question. "You call that necessary and here I was beginning to think you were the best choice in leadership..."

"Mind your tongue, Alistair…err…" he huffed. "You may not have seen what I have but it is important and I feel I should entrust what I know with you."

"And what is it, we should all frolic and sing together in circles." At time Tristan felt he should cut out the man's tongue and leave him on the road.

"Not that," he shrugged. "There is little to no trust between us, you and the mages especially."

"Hey they….ow," the warden began to rub his shoulder.

"As I was saying," Tristan cracked his throbbing knuckles. He had struck his companion at one of the weak spots on his chainmail. It was not enough to give the Templar a bruise but it was enough for him to break a knuckle. He managed to do just that but gave it no mind as he continued. "None of us have earned another's trust. It will take time and it will be an easy task but it is something that we all must do. Do you understand?"

"Why are you telling me this," Alistair was surprised that his companion had dragged him apart from the others and told him this information. He felt that Kainan or Duran would be the first choice, not him.

"Because you are the weakest amongst us," the warden spoke plainly. "We all need to be strong Alistair, you may not like it but it's true. You are the weakest."

Alistair didn't know whether to punch Tristan or to simply walk away. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, out of all of them he was thought to be the weakest. He was the senior Grey Warden, if anything he was the strongest one amongst them. The reality of the newest recruit telling him otherwise was simply insulting.

"Why am I the weakest one here?"

"For the reason that you hold on to the past more than any of us, you need to let it go."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Ostagar, Alistair," Tristan's voice became stern. It was no longer friendly like moments before. "You need to let it go. There is nothing you can do for them."

"Shut up," he said. "You don't know anything." It appeared that he wanted to kill his companion, having been pushed to wit's end.

"I know more than you think, I'm just telling you as a friend to let it go." Tristan knew that he did not seem the type to have experienced the loss Alistair had recently gone through but he was and had suffered through it more than once. "It will destroy you otherwise."

"Shut up," he took to silence.

For nearly an hour no words were said between the two Grey Wardens, the only noise made was done so by nature. It was either the bristling of wind against the trees or the creeping of animals in the brush. The noises were relaxing to one and annoying to the other that could not help but fidget in his boredom.

"Are you a virgin," Tristan ended the silence. He could not stand to hear his companion fussing anymore; it bothered him that the man could not leave the buckles of his armor alone.

"What, of course I'm not a virgin," Alistair's stammering was more of an answer than his own words.

"Of course you are," the warden could not help but chuckle. "You wouldn't be so naïve otherwise. A cunt will do that for a man."

"Look I'm not a virgin alright," the senior warden defended. His words were far from convincing.

"I remember when I used to be naïve like you, then when I turned fifteen I knew the touch and taste of a woman," _oh the memories. _"Don't worry about me telling the others, it's none of their business."

"I said I wasn't a virgin."

"What you say and what I see and hear are two very different things, Alistair." Laughter escaped from Tristan's lips. He sounded as if he was laughing at himself. "If you want I can help you with your problem."

"Uhh, no thank you…I mean…." The man stammered.

"Stop talking and stop dwelling on your fucking virginity. Just listen to what I have to say and if you don't care for it then we will pretend I never spoke these words. Agreed," he turned to his companion.

"Agreed."

"Good, now please listen to what I have to say."


	3. Message to the readers

Hey to those who read this fic, sorry for taking away most of the story. I was not happy with what I had so I'm doing some rewritings but I am also moving back to college tomorrow and returning to my fitness regimen for ROTC. I will be writing less and studying and reading more than I do writing but this fic is far from over. I'm catching up on my wheel of time and GOTR so yea. I'll have some things for you. Again sorry but I got my weight loss to continue. Hard to believe I was 330 pounds nine months ago. Proud to say I'm at 230. Twenty more pounds and I make weight. So have a good one and you'll hear from me when I get the next chapter out.


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